


To Feel Relieved Or To Be Satisfied

by Codydarkstalker



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Kinktober, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 23:48:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16252298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codydarkstalker/pseuds/Codydarkstalker
Summary: Left on an isolated moon, Spock and McCoy have a little trouble with keeping hormones in check.





	To Feel Relieved Or To Be Satisfied

Spock exited his tent and surveyed the camp. Things looked much as they had the morning before. The sky was the same shade of light lavender, the trees were still full of colorful birds singing their morning songs. The only real difference was that McCoy was nowhere to be seen. 

 

Spock sighed and walked out to the main staging area where they were doing their work. They had been dropped on Ogma’s second moon approximately fifteen standard Federation days prior. The base camp had been established with the help of the Enterprise crew, four tens meant for science and medical crew, one for operations crew. 

 

The plan had been a simple one, Spock and mcCoy would head a team to use flora on Ogma’s moon to synthesize a medicine for the people of Pollux Six, an inhabited planet in a nearby star system. Though not Federation members, the planet was home to a race that had already managed the first steps to interstellar travel, before the planet was reduced to nearly half its original population by disease. 

 

The Enterprise had been told to observe the planet, protect it form Klingon interference, and report, nothing else. But Captain Kirk, as usual, had been unable to remain detached from the situation, and when the chief medical officer had come to him with a plan to cure the planet’s population, he had immediately been on board.

 

“Captain, we were ordered to observe only,” Spock had tried to remind him.

 

Kirk had laughed and assured him everything would be fine, much as it always was, and then rushed off to make plans with McCoy. Which, of course, had not upset Spock one bit. He knew the Captain and CMO were close. And that it was normal for friends to spend time together. He was not upset at all, that would have been illogical.

 

Unfortunately Kirk’s plans had been interrupted. A Klingon ship had been spotted along Federation lines, and the Enterprise and all it’s crew had been called in to help. After a brief deliberation with the crew, Kirk had made the call to leave behind the chief medical officer, and chief science officer, confident the two of them together could create the necessary medicine without help. 

 

Except now McCoy was nowhere to be found. Spock sighed and made his way to the open tent where they had set up a small kitchen space. There was drinkable water on the moon, and they had filled several barrels with a small pump. He dipped a kettle into one and set it on a hot plate, going about his normal morning ritual of making tea. Normally McCoy was already up, coffee brewing, staring bleary eyed at the chem results form the night. Spock took his place, walking over to the lab tent to see the progress. They had made several batches of tincture from local trees, testing bark, leaves, and flowers to see which yielded the best results. 

 

He walked over the picked up a data padd. The results were good, consistent with what they had already been doing. Which meant finishing the work was just a matter of time. Spock put the padd down and turned to the more pressing issue, finding out where the doctor had gotten to.

 

“Dr. McCoy?” He called out, heading around the back of the tent. “Dr. McCoy are you out there?” he walked to the edge of the treeline and shouted. They hadn’t gone far into the woods. The moon had been scanned, and there were no signs of anything like a large predator, but scans had been wrong before. The doctor would have known that, making it unlikely he simply wandered off on his own.

 

Spock turned on his heel and headed for the opposite side of camp, and McCoy’s personal tent. The doctor had zipped two tents together, setting the other up as a sort office, claiming he liked to work late when he couldn’t sleep. Spock had chosen not to point at that staring at a padd, with it’s artificial blue light, was likely the cause of the sleep disorder in the first place. As he approached the tens, his pace slowed. There was a strange smell in the air, unlike the sickly sweet smell of the flowering trees, or the smell of decaying leaves in the underbrush. This smell was different. Like the spiced apple drink his mother drank when he was younger. And the cut grass on the academy lawns. And something else that he couldn’t place, but made his mouth water. It was coming from the tent. 

 

“D-doctor?” Spock hesitated in from of the tent. The entrance was zipped shut, and the panels over the mesh windows had been zipped closed as well. But the smell was stronger in from of the tent, and he was sure that was the source. “Doctor mcCoy, are you in there?” 

 

There was a muffled response form within. “Go away, I’m...sick.” McCoy made and effort at a rather fake sounding cough. “I’ll just work in here, so you don’t catch it, and I should be fine in a day or two.”

 

Spock took a deep breath, and immediately felt light headed. “Doctor, if you are unwell, I cannot simply leave you alone in your tent. As your commanding officer I am responsible for your health and safety on this mission.” He reached out and grabbed the zipper, pulling it down in one decisive movement. He realized his mistake as soon as he did it. The smell hit him like a wall, overriding all of his other senses.

 

McCoy was inside the tent, laid out on top of his sleeping bag. He was wearing only his regulation black boxers, the rest of his uniform piled in the corner, and despite the cool air outside the tent he was dripping with sweat. Spock moved into the tent, hardly conscious of the decision to take even the first step. 

 

“Doctor, you look…” Spock hesitated, unsure of how to continue. The man was sweating, and his face was flushed, but he didn’t look or smell sick. Also, the man’s lack of clothing made it rather clear he was sporting an impressive erection.

 

“I know damned well what I look like!” mcCoy snapped, struggling to sit up and cover himself with a spare blue medical shirt. “I asked you to stay outside.”

 

Spock nodded slowly, still staring at the other man. He had seen the human disheveled before, in the field, in surgery, on the bridge during a Klingon attack. But he had never seen him like this. “I’m sorry, but I was concerned there was something seriously wrong. I needed to know if i had to send out an emergency distress signal.”

 

McCoy waved his hand. “No! No need for that.” He sighed and made an attempt to get to his feet, legs unsteady beneath him. “I just-!” He tipped forward and Spock dove forward and caught him under his arms. 

 

Spock easily lifted the man up, and as he did, he felt how warm his skin was. Without thinking he pulled the doctor closer, breathing in deeply and relishing the combination of that enticing smell and warm skin. 

 

“Spock? What in the hell are you doing?” McCoy struggled weakly in the Vulcan’s arms, feet barely touching the ground. “Oh dammit!”

 

Spock stood there, simply holding the other man closer. “Doctor, I am afraid whatever illness you have might be affecting me in some way, I feel very...strange.” He tried to focus his mind. It wasn’t Pon Farr, not so soon, he was sure. This didn’t feel like the burning inside that Vulcans experienced, instead it was like his body was slowly being submerged in warm water, leaving him hot and floaty.

 

“I’m not ill!” McCoy wiggled a bit. “I’m….I’m going into heat. A week early or so.” He stared hard at the ground, body going slack in Spock’s grip. “I ran out of suppressants and now…” He sighed and let his words hang in the air.

 

Heat, Spock was somewhat familiar with the human condition. While most humans were a part of the subgender known as Betas, a portion of humans were Alphas, like the captain, or Omegas, as the doctor appeared to be. His mother had explained the general idea to him as a child, how humans experienced cycles of desire to mate, much like Vulcans, although more frequently and without the possible consequence of death if they failed to copulate. While at the Academy he had noted almost all humans took a form of birth control that suppressed heat, and most humans kept their subgender status private. An Omega in heat wasn’t something he had ever seen before, and a remote, still somewhat logical part of his brain noted the experience could be of some scientific value. The rest of his brain was telling him to push the human to the ground and breed him.

 

“So that’s what the smell was, a release of built up pheromones,” Spock noted, voice strained. “I noted the smell shortly after noticing your absence form the science lab.”

 

“Human heat shouldn’t affect aliens!” McCoy argued, halfheartedly pushing himself away from Spock. “Unless,” he hesitated. “Were you ever tested for human subgender?”

 

Spock shook his head. “Such a thing is not a routine part of Vulcan medicine, it is not a concern for my species.” He shifted his grip on McCoy, pulling him back so he was close. He wanted to keep the man close. Closer than he was. He wondered why there was still so much fabric between them, and slid a hand over the nape of the man’s neck, feeling for psy points gently.

 

McCoy groaned. “You’re only half human! You could still exhibit subgender secondary sex characteristics! And you certainly seem to be affected by human pheromones.” He slid a thigh forward and pressed against Spock’s crotch, feeling the bulge in his uniform pants.

 

Spock sucked in a breath through his teeth. He hadn’t even noticed his cock sliding free of it’s internal sheath, but the pressure McCoy was putting on it only feuled his desire. He slid his hand into the man’s hair and opened his mind, finding the telepathic link between them

 

_ Fuck me, please, breed me. I need it I need to be filled, I want it so bad. I need it. Please Spock, I can feel your cock, I want it, put it in me, please, fuck me fuck me fuck me! _

 

The doctor’s thoughts were like a wave crashing into him, almost physically knocking Spock back with their force. He didn’t hesitate after that. He shifted his hands and pulled McCoy up, so the man could wrap his legs around him, and then dropped to the ground, pushing the man into his makeshift bed on the floor.

 

“Spock,” McCoy whispered, trying to resist the urge to spread his legs and beg. “What are you doing?”

 

“Helping,” Spock answered simply, reaching down to free his cock from his trousers, and ripped off McCoy’s boxers with a quick tug. “Sex will help ease the symptoms of your heat and allow you to return to work sooner. This is the most efficient course of action.” 

 

His cock was dripping wet, slick with his own liquids, and he wiped some up with his fingers and rubbed them against McCoy’s hole. It was puffy and already loose enough for two fingers, clearly the man had been fingering himself. He pushed some of his natural lubricant in, quickly coating the human’s insides, and then unceremoniously pushed in.

 

Leonard keened, head falling back to expose the column on his neck. His hips rose off the ground, desperately grinding up into the alien cock. “Okay, yeah, sex, very logical, good idea,” he babbled, semi incoherent as the cock slid further and further in, hitting his sweet spot and quieting the overwhelming urge that had been eating at his insides all night. He couldn’t think about why Spock would want to fuck him or if it was a good idea to let a hobgoblin he spent most of his time arguing with to fuck him. All he could focus on was the need to be filled, to be fucked.

 

Spock propped himself up with one arm and drove into the man below him almost mechanically, hips snapping forward at a punishing pace. Leonard was hot inside, so hot he felt like his skin was melting, and his cock was being squeezed as if the man was trying to milk the cum out of him. He reached down with his free hand and wrapped it around the human’s erection, pumping it with a loose grip.

 

“Fuck! Spock!” McCoy wrapped his legs around the other man, trying to pull him in closer. “If you’re going to fuck me then fuck me!”

 

Spock sped up slightly, relishing the way the man moaned wantonly at the new pace. “Very illogical, Doctor,” He panted. “After all, I am very clearly already doing just that.” He punctuated his last words with a particularly hard thrust, slamming their hips together.

 

McCoy’s back arched off the floor and he came, coating Spock’s hand and his own stomach, his body twitching and twisting and pulling Spock’s own orgasm out of him. The collapsed on the floor, pressed tight together, panting as they rose out the aftershocks. McCoy wiggled the smallest bit, feeling how full he was. He could feel the cum pooling under him, and he could also feel how hard Spock’s cock still was.

 

“Vulcan’s are a very hardy race,” Spock supplied, not even having the good graces to look winded. His hair was still perfectly in place. 

 

McCoy felt and urge to make a mess of the other man, and grabbed him by the hair, dragging him down for a sloppy kiss. “Good,” he whispered, as they broke apart. “Good to know you’re pointy eared ass is good for something.”

 

Spock chose not to argue, and instead silenced the other man with another kiss.


End file.
